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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548452">a bump in the night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle/pseuds/a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle'>a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxious Castiel (Supernatural), Anxious Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jack Kline has three dads, M/M, Post-Canon, after 15.20, and they have insomnia, and yes i am putting my anxiety on my characters, they have trauma, who doesn't</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:48:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle/pseuds/a_fuck_it_kind_of_lifestyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>just a short little fluffy fic about Dean and Cas's anxieties after The End (15.20) and how they comfort each other</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a bump in the night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thought Dean had when he woke up was that it was happening </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His heart was pounding, and something in the back of his head was screaming alarm bells at him. The rest of his head was still heavy and disoriented from sleep and whatever nightmare had so obviously caused this. Again. He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to slow down his heart, but the second he thought about it, it sped up again. Oh, the life of a hunter was glamorous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hearing was alert up from the anxiety flowing through his veins, so when he heard a noise coming from somewhere in the bunker it sounded significant. A dull thud, maybe the sound of a boot coming down the stairs, or a body against a wall. Could be the sound of someone falling, or maybe it was the sound of the kitchen door shutting in its heavy frame. Someone was in the bunker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Dean,” he scolded himself quietly. “Nobody can get in, nobody even knows this place exists.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But what if someone did? Was he just gonna sit there in bed like an idiot and wait for them to barge in? Kill his family? Dread gripped his chest and he eased out of bed with a sigh. It happened every night. But there was always a chance that this time… this time it would be real. He grabbed his gun from under his pillow and padded into the hall, being careful to shut his well-oiled door quietly. It was the only door in the place that he’d ensured was silent; all the others squeaked like an old bird. For protection. Nothing better to alert you to an intruder than a squeaky hinge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, so he was a little paranoid. Dean crept along the hallway, keeping a careful eye on all the shadows he saw move in the dim lighting of the wall sconces. Nothing yet. He could hear Sam snoring through his bedroom door. “Jeesh, thank god Eileen is deaf.” He snickered to himself. Next came Jack’s door. Jack slept like a freaking rock, so Dean felt alright peeking into his bedroom to check. Safe and sound, a book folded on top of his chest and his lamp still on. Dean tiptoed to his bedside, turning it off and laying the book on his nightstand before he left. Dork. He was gonna turn out just like Sam, a little bookworm. He’d been really into this nerdy science-fiction series, something about aliens and pirates, maybe. Cas really was the better listener when it came to that kind of thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heartbeat picked up again the second he got out the door, so much that Dean had to lean against the wall and force himself to breathe. There was nothing even happening, goddamnit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kitchen was clear, the Dean Cave was empty and dark, but there was a dim light shining down at the end of the hallway. The library. “Sam probably just forgot to turn off a lamp again.” He told himself, so quietly he could barely hear it. He raised his gun anyway, sneaking up the hall until he could turn the corner and have the element of surprise. That would be the first room someone searched if they’d broken in, after all. He jumped out from the corner, gun pointed…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At Cas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dean!” Cas gasped. He put the book in his hand down, looking up at Dean. “It’s just me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean let out a breath which felt like a relief. He was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing about halfway down the hall. For stealth, you know. He relaxed the grip on his gun and let it drop to his side. “Sorry, Cas,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you think I was an intruder?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I-” That would be ridiculous. No one could get in here. No one knew this place existed. “I heard a noise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you thought it was trouble.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I just… I wanted to make sure.” He hoped his face wasn’t getting as red as it felt. “This place has all sorts of weird stuff,” God, that excuse was lame. He silently begged Cas to agree. They’d just started dating. This was not a hot look. His heart beat agreed with him. He felt nauseous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The bunker is safe, Dean. We searched through everything.” Cas beckoned him over, and Dean reluctantly sat down. With his boxer briefs, t-shirt, and gun, he felt a lot silly sitting next to Cas. Cas, fully dressed and lounging in the middle of the night.</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” Dean ducked his head, hoping Cas wouldn’t hear how hard he was trying to keep his breathing even. “Old habits.” He huffed and set the gun down on the table. “What are you doing up, anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I guess I’m not quite as used to human processes as Jack yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean grinned slightly. “Yeah, well, the kid’s a teenager. He needs it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The kid’s three.” Cas corrected. He crossed his legs and faced Dean on the couch like he was the kid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Makes my point even better then.” Cas just smiled at him in reply. Dean fidgeted, uncomfortable with the attention, even though he was sure Cas was just as tired as he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas seemed to recognize it. He frowned and took Dean’s hand in his, running his fingers over the creases of his palm. Luckily he either didn’t notice or ignored how clammy they were. “Dean… do you feel okay?” He spoke softly and calmly, but Dean recognized the tone. It was something new they’d developed since Cas had come back from The Empty, since they’d started dating. It was this tone that they used when they wanted the truth, even though they knew it was uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean felt dumb answering. “Yeah, I mean… I’m fine. I mean… look at me, all my fingers and toes are there and everything.” he wiggled his fingers in Cas’s grip, which earned him a little smile. “I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Cas. I know it’s all over, but…  I still get nervous. Over nothing.” He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, letting the anxiety settle into place. “I’ve woken up every night this week and cleared the bunker.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The admission didn’t take Cas off guard at all. At least, not that he showed. He squeezed Dean’s hand and put another on the back of his neck. His hands were cool and steady, and they made Dean feel a little more anchored. “Are you anxious right now?” Dean took the hand away from his face and nodded. He gripped Cas’s hand and raised it to his chest so he could feel his heartbeat racing away. Cas nodded. He leaned in to Dean, kissing his soft and sweet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t been able to sleep because I keep thinking I’m going to come out of my room and it’ll all be gone.” He admitted quietly. “You, Jack, Sam, Eileen. It feels like if I stay out here, in the open, there isn’t a chance for it all to disappear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean furrowed his eyebrows. He understood, of course he did. But the thought of Cas staying out here all night feeling bad, it made him hurt. “Why didn’t you come get me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled, quirking an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged and kissed his knuckles. “Touche.” He couldn’t tell if touching Cas like this was making his anxiety better or worse. On the one hand, getting to touch Cas and be soft with him made him feel giddy and scarily lucky. On the other hand, it also made him feel all kinds of butterflies, the sense of disbelief that this man loved him still lingering. He decided it was worth it either way, and knocked his knuckles against Cas’s leg. “Come on, come to bed with me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas paused, eyebrows raising.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, I don’t mean like that.” he grinned easily. “At least, not right now.” The blush crept up his cheeks again. Flirting with Cas was his newest extreme sport. “Just, maybe if I’m there you won’t feel like everything’s about to disappear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas looked way too flattered at the proposition. God he was cute. “On one condition. Wake me up if you hear a noise?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean laughed. “Are you sure? You need your beauty rest.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas scowled at him. “Is that an insult?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, you’ve looked worse.” Dean quirked his lips. He was almost cuter when he was annoyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh really? Like when?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like that one time in the barn when you told me you loved me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you mean the time I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Cas scoffed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “Yeah. You looked like shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas shook his head and seemed to remember their conversation. “I mean it. Wake me up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s smile faded as he thought it over. Maybe he could wake Cas up with a few kisses, convince him to go for a night drive or something instead of stalking around the house. “Okay, fine. But no being grumpy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Me? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean, you are a nightmare to wake up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that an insult?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean laughed and grabbed Cas by the hand, leading him to his bedroom. That sleep was the best either of them had gotten in weeks. </span>
</p>
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